Never Doubt
by korrc1
Summary: All you need is love...but what happens when you find it? And how do you act on it? Mozzie/OFC full relationship arc beginning pre-series. Full Summary inside. NOW COMPLETE
1. Part 1: First Encounters

A/N: There's not much to tell about this story, really. It's a Mozzie/OFC story, beginning pre-series and progressing through the second season. It's a song-fic to "Make You Feel My Love" (I was imagining the Adele cover when I wrote it, not the Bob Dylan original). This is AU in the sense that we really don't have a lot of information about Neal's family before New York, so I'm making it up (more or less). I did try to stick to canon where applicable (ie, Neal implies that Mozzie likes Einstein and Nietzsche). There will be references to the series as a whole (specifically, _Dentist Of Detroit _and _Forging Bonds _but also a couple general plot points of the first season). I would like to take this opportunity to thank my beta reader, Wolfpack pride. Enjoy, and feel free to leave a review. Thanks for reading!

**PART 1: "**A discovery is said to be an accident meeting a prepared mind."

~Albert Szent-Gyorgyi

_When the rain/Is blowing in your face_

_And the whole world/Is on your case_

_I could offer you/A warm embrace_

_To make you feel my love_

If he believed in love, true love, everlasting love that defeated evil and conquered the world and all the obstacles that were thrown in its path, Mozzie might have labeled it as such. But he'd never been the type of person to buy into real love; people like him were not meant to get what they wanted out of life, and the more he accepted that simple fact, the better. Every con got his heart broken at least once, and his experience had already come and gone. It was that simple: love was not meant for him, which meant he didn't ever have to worry about being brought down by his emotions.

As a result, when he walked into Neal Caffrey's small apartment for their weekly meeting, she caught him completely off guard. He stood there in the doorway, trying not to stare at her, and hoping that this was not Kate. If it was, then the universe hated him without a doubt. The woman looked over at him with striking blue eyes, equally surprised by the mysterious stranger who had entered without knocking. She was working on what appeared to be a diagram of some sort of building, from what Mozzie could tell, and she clearly was not expecting anyone to come into the apartment. Neal was still at work, evidently.

"I'm sorry, I'm here about the telephone line," Mozzie rapidly spat out, wondering if Neal was being robbed. She seemed prepared for a break-in; he could see a set of lock-picks on the counter that were definitely not Neal's.

"Did you lose your uniform on the way in?" she asked, inching towards the phone. Mozzie stepped in her way, and they bumped up against each other.

"They didn't warn you?" he asked. "It's a bit of a sensitive matter." For the life of him, he couldn't stop blushing. Lying to her seemed impossibly unnatural, making things difficult.

She gave him a suspicious look. "What exactly is wrong with it, then?"

"All sorts of things," Mozzie said far too quickly. "The whole floor is out."

For a split second, he saw triumph in her eyes. "How has the next door neighbor Mrs O'Leary been talking on the phone for the past 45 minutes, then?" Mozzie swallowed hard, a movement she caught. "All right, out with it. Are you here to hurt my brother?"

"Brother?" Mozzie said, stunned. "Neal never said anything..." He realized his mistake. "I mean..."

She rolled her eyes, giving him a gentle smile. "You must be Mozzie. I'm not surprised Cap hasn't said anything; he's not exactly the most forthcoming."

"Cap?" Mozzie asked, slightly confused by the moniker.

"Have you ever seen Star Trek?" the woman asked. Mozzie nodded, and she continued. "He's Captain Kirk; I'm Spock. We used to play in the backyard growing up. It was more fun than Batman and had homemade phasers and we'd chase down imaginary Klingons."

Mozzie fought the urge to laugh at the image of a pint-sized Neal Caffrey chasing after invisible Klingons, and failed. "What's your name?" he asked. "And are the you older sibling or the younger one?"

"I'm Greene; Stella Greene. Neal and I are twins, if you can believe that. Sometimes, people think it makes no sense."

Mozzie took the hand she offered, feeling her callused palm."The most incomprehensible thing about the world is that it is comprehensible." he informed her effortlessly.

Stella raised an eyebrow. "Einstein?" she asked with a joking tone. "I've always been more of an Oppenheimer fan myself."

Mozzie raised an eyebrow in response, quietly impressed. "Einstein worked through greater problems and came up with more adventurous endeavors!" he protested.

"Genius sees the answer before the question," was Stella's response. Mozzie was temporarily caught off guard. Luckily, Neal walked in at that point, and was glad to see his new friend and fellow con-man. He was, however, surprised to discover his twin sister. "Spock!" he said, hugging her enthusiastically. "What's going on?

"I'm planning to hit the Hammer Gallery in Midtown next week," Stella informed him, gesturing towards the diagram with the cars. "I let myself in to see if you could give me a hand with a distraction before I break in. What do you say?"

Neal pursed his lips. "Sorry, Spock. I'm going to be swamped for the next week. Adler's got me working hard, but it's worth it. He's a great boss."

Stella rolled her eyes. "You sure _Kate _doesn't have anything to do with it?" she asked, teasing him gently.

Neal shrugged sheepishly. "Kate's one reason, but she's not the only reason. Adler's...well, he's brilliant. But he's ridiculously generous simultaneously. It almost seems impossible, you know?"

Mozzie, watching the conversation with interest, was glad to see Neal so attached to the job. He was equally glad to see Stella call her brother on Kate being one of the reasons he was firmly attached to Adler's business. Part of him was grateful that he wasn't the only one worried about the romantic endeavors Neal was getting into. It was dangerous territory for any new employee, but especially dangerous for a con artist. After all, one slip-up and he could get arrested and ruin the entire long con before they got their reward. Mozzie filed Neal's apparent bonding with Adler under potential warning signs; clearly, things got complicated when cons bonded with their marks.

Stella considered the diagram, looking for ways to achieve the job without a massive distraction that necessitated a second person. Mozzie couldn't think of any. Before his brain could seriously consider the idea, his mouth volunteered his services. Both Caffrey twins (Greene? He really wasn't sure which last name to use.) stared at him, clearly shocked. Before he could retract it, Stella was accepting his offer, telling him to bring his A game and that they would make a great miniature crew. Mozzie was strangely elated, but couldn't help but notice the look that crossed Neal's face. It screamed of concern, frustration, and hesitation. It was almost as as though he really didn't want his friend and his twin to work together on anything. Mozzie rapidly realized that if things went anywhere with this relationship, messing with Stella was probably the worst possible thing he could do...


	2. Part 2: Check Your Spectacles

PART 2

Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.

H. L. Mencken

When the evening shadows/And the stars appear

And there is no one there/To dry your tears

I could hold you/For a million years

To make you feel my love

If there was one thing Stella Greene was terrified of, it was people. Well, no, that sounded bad, actually. The more concise way of wording that would be that sometimes, other people scared her. Not because they were people, but because every person she met, she ran the risk of being remembered and being identified later. And if the Feds caught up to her...well, she was going to prison, undoubtedly. Cat burglars were not exactly model citizens that got their sentences commuted.

There was also a level of discontent. For her, the world had always been black and white, bluntly divided. There were rational actions, and irrational actions. Decisions should be made based on what your end was, and your ends should justify the means to get there. Yes, it was a little Spock like (something Cap never failed to remind her of), but she'd never been steered wrong by it. Love was an emotion, and emotions made you do stupid things. Ergo, falling in love wasn't an option if she was going to survive in the world around her, because making a stupid mistake was going to get her arrested. If anything, she thought all of her love belonged to the city. Who wouldn't take New York as a mistress? It was gorgeous, mysterious and deliciously enchanting. Compared to St Louis, the city was a dream.

But then, Mozzie had wandered into her life via her brother, and things had changed. Not dramatically, but things had changed. Suddenly, she didn't only have to depend on her brother for inspiration or help with her various illegal activities. He was so wrapped up in the long Adler con (and Kate by direct connection) that sometimes, Stella wondered if he knew she stopped by to peruse his wine collection and talk about life. Sure, they worked well together; they knew each other frontwards and backwards, as best friends and twins ought to. But there were just enough differences between the two of them for Stella to be glad for a new friend.

After their first job together (which had been a rapid-fire robbery of a Migliore-Newton where Mozzie pretended to be an author looking for inspiration as she slipped in from the roof), things flowed well between the two budding friends. Mozzie was connected with the New York underworld, Stella quickly realized. This made him perfect to work with, something Neal had mentioned in passing once or twice.

It took a while, but Stella eventually began to open up to Mozzie. She told him about her past; well, bits and pieces of it, anyways. She told him about her dreams of seeing the world, how she loved being free in New York. Sometimes, when she was drunk enough, she told him about her mother and how she'd never been able to live up the expectations. He was willing to listen to her, willing to let her vent sometimes when she needed to let it out. It was nice to have that quiet support, nice to know that there existed someone who was willing to be nonjudgemental towards her. She'd never been that close with anyone except Cap before, and it almost scared her.

In return, he told her a little more about himself, about being a foster child in Detroit and Mr Jeffries. He even showed her his beloved Mozart, something he'd kept hidden from prying eyes. Somehow, it felt right to share with Stella. He couldn't explain it, but he knew he could trust her to keep his secret.

They spent some quality time together over the next six weeks. Eventually, Neal began to relax about Mozzie helping Stella with her heists, and actually enjoyed their stories. His eyes still harbored a guarded look sometimes, and Mozzie could feel an undercurrent of protection radiating outwards. Clearly, something had happened in their collective past that made Neal cautious with his sister. Mozzie did his best to reassure his friend of his intentions. He wasn't sure where they were going to end up, but he knew deep down that double-crossing Stella would cost both of them.

Of course, they had their share of close calls. The worst one was the Spanish Harlem debacle, where Stella and Mozzie had gone in with a forger named Devlin to make an exchange with a known mob boss. Things had not exactly gone smoothly, to say the least. The exchange went south rapidly, and Devlin bolted from the scene before the deal was done. Guns had been drawn, which always sent Mozzie's blood pressure through the stratosphere. They had gotten out in one piece, barely. Stella had broken both pinkies of the man who stupidly grabbed her as a potential hostage. The consensus between them was to not tell Neal the full story. If he saw the bruises on Stella's wrist, he didn't comment. Mozzie spent a week fighting off nightmares of Stella being thrown into an unmarked van while he was helpless to stop her captors, waking in a heavy sweat with emotions running through him that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He chalked it up to paranoia on his part, ignoring the gut instinct that suggested otherwise.

One night, they were up on the roof of Thursday watching the pulse of the city as the stars slowly began to appear. For once, it felt perfect, and Stella couldn't help but smile broadly. Mozzie looked over, raising an eyebrow. "What are you pondering, Stella?" he asked, honestly curious.

Stella considered the question. "This is my first weekend where I haven't had to run away from Feds or cops in a couple months," she explained. "It's a good feeling, Mozz." She looked over at him. "Thanks for letting me crash again. I needed a little space to find my senses."

"All evidence of truth come only from the senses," Mozzie informed her.

Stella sighed. "Aristotle?" she asked. Mozzie gave her a look of mock horror. "All right, how far off am I this time?"

"A few centuries," was the response. "Nietschze. You need to read more."

"I'm already swamped with Dostoyevsky, Mozz! The Russian writing makes my head hurt, you know. It's hard work, trying to pierce through all the metaphors and pretty language. Sometimes it feels like a lab report or some sort of scientific jargon where things have gotten lost in translation."

"The whole of science is nothing more than a refinement of everyday thinking," Mozzie told her.

Stella smiled at him. "At least I know Einstein when I hear it. Be grateful for that."

"I am," Mozzie began. Stella's pocket vibrated, surprising both of them. She checked the incoming number, and raised an eyebrow. "I wonder what Cap wants," she stated. "I thought he was working with Kate tonight." She answered the phone.

Mozzie ignored the conversation, stunned by his own daring. Because, without that interruption...he had been about to cross a line, about to let Stella know that he was grateful for so much more than her appreciation of Einstein. She'd grown on him, he realized. He almost felt a serious attachment, a connection with her. And in his line of work, that was very dangerous.

"All right, all right. Calm down,Cap; I'm on my way." Mozzie looked up, hearing the tonal shift in Stella's voice. She hung up the phone, then let out a heavy breath. "Mozz, we got a problem," she told him. "Kate's leaving the city in a month, and Cap's not exactly taking it well."

Mozzie quietly made a face, bringing his mind back into the present. "Your brother's madly in love with her, isn't he?" was his question. Stella nodded. Mozzie sighed. "I should have warned him. It never works out in our profession."

"Never?" Stella asked, facing away from him as she considered the distant stars. There was something in her voice that Mozzie couldn't quite place, something he wasn't sure he wanted to try naming.

He decided to avoid the potential danger. "You know what Nietzsche said about love?" he asked. Stella looked over at him with a guarded facial expression. Mozzie continued. "A pair of powerful spectacles has sometimes sufficed to cure a person in love."

Stella snorted at the humor of that statement, then grew pensive. "Well, maybe we find Cap a new pair of glasses. Lord knows it could only help him if he wasn't being irrational." She stood up slowly, stretching a little. "I'm going to go check in with him, Mozz. I'll see you later." She slipped off the roof and back through the window before he could register a qualifying statement.

Later, Mozzie realized that maybe the Nietzsche quote was not something he should have said to Stella, given their relationship's ambiguity and flexibility. He slowly polished his own set of spectacles, wondering if hindsight could possibly help him learn from this problematic reaction. After all, maybe love really was worth pursuing...


	3. Part 3: It's All Gravity's Fault

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet_

_But I would never do you wrong_

_I've known it from the moment that we met_

_No doubt in my mind where you belong_

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." ~ Lao Tzu

It took Mozzie two years to figure it out. Maybe the proper statement would be that it took him two years to accept the truth, although he saw it coming from miles away. Two years of watching Stella try to date other guys, trying to keep his stomach from lurching every time Kate or Neal mentioned it in passing. Two years of comforting her when the dates inevitably ended badly, either due to her profession, the potential date's priggishness, or Neal getting involved in one way or another. Two years of watching her work with toy cars and paper strips to build a job from the ground up, observing the cute way she chewed on her lower lip when she was frustrated with a problem, the way her blue eyes lit up with a new enthusiasm when she finally had an answer. He finally realized what had been staring him in the face all along: that Stella Greene was adorable, and amazing. That she was the one thing he wanted, more than anything; hell, she made his life so much better.

Sure, he'd felt bad after their long con had collapsed and suddenly everything they had worked for was gone. Neal brought Kate into the fold, telling her everything. Stella was fine with it, actually preferring this; she'd met Kate before, and hated lying to her. Mozzie was not, but he quickly realized that he really had no recourse. After all, the object of his affections lay just out of reach. He couldn't be mad at Neal for hanging onto Kate with everything he had. It was impulsive, irrational...everything he hated about love.

Working together brought all of them closer. Four man cons made things that much easier, forced them to leave that much less to chance and Fortune to buffet as she might. Mozzie bonded with his friends on levels that he hadn't previously believed possible. After all, he had always survived alone, thrifty, self-sufficient. He'd never believed after he left Detroit in his past that he would be able to trust people, fully trust them and know that they would have his back no matter what. Sometimes, he struggled with that trust when he saw the way Neal looked at Kate. He knew, deep down, that his partner was considering marriage and a happy life with a family, a life post-crime. Part of him wanted to scream disapproval from the rooftops, wanted to strangle any hope of such an idea before it arrived in Neal's head. But who was he to judge?

A Shakespeare quote crossed his mind. "But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes?" Somehow, it landed with Mozzie that Neal's happiness, Neal's future, was not going to hinge on their relationship as friends and partners. And that saddened him, because a part of him knew he was always going to be free from establishment, from definition. Settling down just wasn't an option. And if that meant their friendship was collapsing...then so be it.

But he didn't want to lose Stella. Beautiful, striking Stella, with her electric blue eyes and short black hair that Mozzie wanted to run his fingers through. Sometimes, when she'd had to crash at his place while running from the Feds or NYPD, she would fall asleep on the couch in the middle of a discussion on Kafka. He watched her sleep sometimes, admiring how peaceful she got when she wasn't planning five heists simultaneously. He knew that the things he felt for Stella, the way she just improved his life sometimes, was worth sticking around for. And so he did, clinging to the crew they built even as he could slowly see the tendrils of its eventual collapse billowing in their daily planning of events.

It all came to a head over the Copenhagen job for Catherine The Great's jewelry box. Neal had tried to talk Kate into it, but somehow failed miserably. Mozzie didn't know the full details; he inadvertently walked in on the argument that followed. Things were said that he knew would be regretted, and in general tensions were high. Mozzie had hated the idea of Copenhagen; he had told Neal it seemed too risky, that going overseas when that Burke suit was looking for him would make coming back into the country all the more difficult. He'd shared a couple of heinous stories he'd heard about the Danish police force from other con-men who had barely gotten out. None of it seemed to convince Neal, who for some reason was dead-set on the jewelry box.

It wasn't until Mozzie saw the all-too-familiar duffle sitting on the table, half full with various things and tools, that the ramifications hit him. Quickly, he turned around and left the apartment, leaving Neal and Kate to their argument. They hadn't heard him. If he was lucky, Stella wouldn't have either. The last thing he needed was to spell exactly why her leaving on this crazy job felt so damn...wrong. Like the air had been knocked out of him. He didn't have the words.

He stayed away for two days, holing up in Wednesday. Neal, no doubt still recovering from his fight with Kate, didn't bother trying to contact him. He'd already said no. He spent his time in meditation, trying to allow tranquility back in where it had so rapidly fled at the sight of the half-packed duffle. His mind wouldn't rest. Over and over, he twisted and turned his emotions, evaluating every step, every inch that he had traveled down and constantly looking for a way off the path. He couldn't be in love with her. It was too difficult. He refused to accept it.

Eventually, she came to him. Somehow, he knew that she would find him, no matter how hard he tried to hide. Part of him was thrilled to see her step off the elevator into the small loft. He felt his heart beat just a tad faster as he noticed her blue eyes light up a little to see him sitting there, and fought to control it. "Stella," he said, trying to act like there was nothing wrong. "It's good to see you."

She sat down next to him, fighting the mist that slowly gathered in her eyes. "Mozz," she responded, smiling. "It's good to see you too, buddy."

They sat there in comparative silence, neither wanting to be the one to break it. Finally, Stella looked at him. "Mozz, he's my brother," she whispered quietly, fully fighting off tears this time. "He's dead-set on this job, and we both know if I let him go alone after a fight like that..."

"He'll do something stupid because he's not thinking straight," Mozzie finished, agreeing with her mentally even as every fiber in his body screamed with pain. He sighed. "I wish I could talk you out of it," he told her, looking into her eyes. "I wish I had the words, Stella. But I...I don't."

She slid a little closer to him, squeezing his hand. Static electricity shot up his arm, but he didn't dare pull away. She raised an eyebrow, almost daring him to make a move. He breathed in, considering her closeness, the gentle warmth radiating off her between them, and the slight smell of coconut shampoo. The air hummed, every molecule pulsing with a new and foreign energy. He coughed slightly. "Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love."

Stella smiled through her tears. "Still stuck on Einstein?" she teased.

Mozzie made a face of mock horror. "You still haven't been convinced of his clear superiority?" he asked.

Stella choked back a laugh. "There's a difference between quotability and superiority, I think we could agree," she told him. Then, her eyes became pensive again. "Although, I have to say, he has grown on me a little bit."

She tasted of mint toothpaste and alcohol, Mozzie's brain realized as the rest of him was thrown headlong into their first kiss. It was a pleasant taste, to be sure. All he knew in that moment, in that instant, is that he never wanted it to end. Never.

But, like all things, it had to. Their goodbyes were subdued, both wishing that more could happen that night but both knowing that they couldn't. Because if they crossed that line...Mozzie didn't want to consider the consequences, least of which was Neal's stark disapproval. She backed into the elevator, kissing him all the while, and promised she'd come home as soon as she could. As he watched the elevator slowly fade out of sight, Mozzie deeply hoped that was a promise she could keep.


	4. Part 4: Prison Escapes and Lost Chances

I'd go hungry/I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

Know there's nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love

"Doubt thou the stars are fire/Doubt that the sun doth move/Doubt truth to be a liar/But never doubt I love" (Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, Act 2 Scene 2 Lines 124-127)

Mozzie hated late night phone calls from burner phones. They never held good news and usually surprised him, startling him awake. His dread was only magnified when he realized that the Copenhagen job would have just gone down. Maybe it was a coincidence. A complete and total coincidence. He picked up, his hands trembling slightly. "Hello?"

"Mozz," Neal croaked, and Mozz almost dropped the phone. He could instantly tell from the tone of his friend that something had gone horribly, terribly wrong. Immediately, his mind went to the worst possible scenario. "What happened, Neal?" He heard the panic in his voice, but he didn't care.

There was a heavy sigh. "God, Mozz, the security were ridiculous. Alex's information was flawed at best, and...well, you were right. It was a stupid idea, especially as a three man job. We needed Kate, and...that's my fault." There was a heavy silence, one that Mozzie dreaded the end of. "Mozz, Alex is in a French hospital with a concussion. I barely got out in one piece"

His throat constricted. "And Stella?"

Another heavy sigh. "Danish prison. I'm going to break her out, Mozz."

"I'm coming with you." His own spontaneity stunned him, almost scared him. But...he was perfect. He knew about Danish prisons, after all. Hell, he knew about prison breaks in general, having attempted a couple in his career. But more importantly, he needed to be involved in saving her. He could not, would not sit in his safe house in Manhattan, praying to whatever deity existed out there that Stella would still be alive and that Neal would be able to get to her in time. It wasn't an option; not anymore.

If Neal was surprised by the offer, he didn't show it. "She's being held in the state prison in Nyborg. I'll meet you in Copenhagen in two days."

Mozzie nodded, and then realized the mootness of the action. "All right," he said. "I'll use Haversham; it's a reliable alias."

"Thanks, Mozz," Neal said, the panic finally leaving his voice. He sounded relieved.

"Glad to help," Mozzie told him. "Keep me posted on any new information."

#####

Breaking Stella out of the Nyborg prison wasn't actually that difficult. Of course, the conversation afterwards was. Both Stella and Mozzie had clearly been putting it off, but her shock at seeing Mozzie there, and the passionate embrace they shared had left little in doubt. Neal, while not exactly thrilled about the relationship, was not unsupportive either. He expressed his willingness to stay out of it, something that Stella was grateful for.

Later, after the exciting adventure, the three of them boarded a flight back home. Mozzie pretended to fall asleep almost instantly. As he suspected, the twins had a substantial conversation when he was not 'awake'. Stella told Neal that Mozzie had supported her through thick and thin, and that she'd been avoiding taking their relationship further because she thought he'd been caught up on personal connections; once he'd made his move, she wanted in. Neal groused that Mozzie wasn't exactly the most stable person in general, something Stella gave him an elbow for. He was also worried about what would happen if any of them wound up in jail. Stella told him that love was not limited by jail bars, and that she hoped Mozzie would stick around for her. It gave Mozzie a warm feeling to hear that from her, and he rapidly realized that Stella was the type of girl worth sticking around for, no matter what.

Of course, the discovery of Kate's departure distracted Neal. He felt emotionally battered, thrown off his groove in a way he hadn't known existed. For him, life had always been a series of intelligent choices, a game he could play to get exactly what he wanted. But without Kate, and with the Feds rapidly gaining on him, he knew that the game was suddenly not worth the potential payoff.

Stella and Mozzie, recognizing Neal's emotional turmoil, kept displays of affection to a minimum around him. They were both there to support him, even as his cons got crazier and bolder in a clear attempt to draw out his lost love. Mozzie was sure that Neal and Stella had a few arguments about his increased recklessness and how that would impact their crew, but those happened when he wasn't around to witness it. They still respected each other and kept things semi-professional on a daily basis. The Raphael job was one of their best together, each using honed skills for a mutually beneficial achievement.

However, he couldn't help but feel guilty about landing Neal in jail. After all, he'd told him the information about Kate's location, even with the clear knowledge that it came from a known snitch and was probably as good as any set-up. Maybe that's why it was better that Stella hadn't been around when he divulged the information. She would have argued against it, and they might have had a massive fight over something so clearly ridiculous. When Mozzie asked where Stella was, Neal's facial expression changed for a split-second. Something crossed his face, something that almost seemed like regret. Mozzie was about to ask, but Neal beat him to it, giving a quick explanation about a job in Maryland. On the surface, Mozzie accepted it. He should have known better.

Because once Neal was in custody, the Feds came looking for Stella. Sure, that was to be expected; after all, if you know about a partnership and you know one partner has a clear incentive to not rat on the other, why bother even asking? However, Mozzie was not expecting them to essentially trash Neal's place in an attempt to find her. For him, that seemed to be crossing a line, even for a suspected felon. Wasn't there any justice anymore for guys like them? Clearly, privacy was flexible when your brother was arrested.

Mozzie called her after he discovered the apartment, hoping she would pick up. When she did, he thought he could detect something foreign in her voice. "Mozz, I'm not feeling so good about talking right now."

"Stella, Neal was arrested yesterday by Burke. The Feds tossed his apartment. I think you're next."

Silence. Then, softly, "God. I can't believe it. This is so wrong."

Mozzie heard the confusion, the guilt layered into her tone. "Stella, they set him up using Kate. It's not your fault."

"Mozz...hell, we had a falling out over Kate. I don't think he was thinking rationally when he went looking for her."

Mozzie was stunned by this confession. "What?" he asked. "When did that happen?"

"Three days ago." There was a heavy sigh. "I told him that she was avoiding him for a good reason, that he'd let her down and that she couldn't trust him. He accused me of hating her because he wanted to get married. I told him that she'd been stringing him along, and that he was doing stupid things now. I...I don't recognize him, Mozz. The Copenhagen fiasco never should have happened. I'm not sure if it's Kate's fault, or Alex's, or whatever. But Cap's changed, and that scares me."

Mozzie considered everything she just said. "Are you in Maryland?" he asked.

"I am," was the reply. "The Academy Museum is hosting a Grimm exhibition that opens tomorrow."

"After that, you should go underground," Mozzie told her. "I hear Chicago's quite nice."

There was a bitter laugh. "It's nice, but it's no New York. Damn, Mozz, I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Would you come visit me?"

"I'd think about it," was his response. "After the trial, of course."

"Of course." The bluntness in the statement almost made him cringe.

"Stella..." he began, wanting to say so many things.

She cut him off. "I know, Mozz. Me too." She paused. "I'm going to miss you, old pal."

"We'll find a way to communicate," he promised her, praying it was one he could keep. Somehow, he knew that he'd find a way...


	5. Part 5: 40,000 Brothers & Together Again

The storms are raging/On the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

You ain't seen nothing like me yet

Ohana means Family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten. ~ Lilo and Stitch

For six months, Neal was on top of the world. Sure, he was stuck with the tracking anklet...but he was living in a penthouse apartment in New York, and a good chunk of Manhattan was available to him. Compared to the prison sentence he'd been facing, this was a full on miracle. All he wanted now was to find Kate, work off his sentence and then walk away a free man again. Naturally, finding the man controlling her was the first step to having all his plans come to fruition.

Mozzie was naturally concerned for Neal's grandiose plans, especially the ones involving Kate and their future. After Neal had been locked up, he'd had a couple disagreements with his best friend's girlfriend when they crossed paths. He sometimes wondered what Neal saw in her; after all, her refusal to go to Copenhagen caused that entire fiasco. Of course, it was difficult for him to fully judge Neal's romantic aspirations given his complicated circumstance with Stella.

She'd come back to New York once in the past four years while her brother was away serving time, and immediately pulled a job on a large gallery in Soho. By the time the Feds caught on, she was gone with a million dollar painting. They'd spent that night on the roof of Monday, looking into the night, catching up, and generally enjoying the moment with a bottle of Chardonnay. Stella was liking Chicago, but it just wasn't home. Mozzie could easily attest to that feeling, but he didn't have an answer. She really couldn't stay in one place for too long; it was a massive risk that he wasn't willing to let her take. In the end, she'd left again, leaving the artwork with him to sell to one of his many talented fences and an account he could deposit her share in. They didn't talk about Neal; neither really wanted to think about him. Mozzie could tell that Stella missed her brother, but she never broached the subject. She was just too damn proud.

But now...Neal was out of jail, hunting for Kate. And Mozzie had gotten news that Stella was coming back home again, intrigued by a priceless antiques exhibit on display at the Museum of Natural History. He was worried about bringing the twins back together after their falling out, terrified about the potentially explosive reaction that would cause. In addition, there was the blunt fact that harboring (or even the appearance of harboring, regardless of the reality) a wanted fugitive would knock Neal off the ladder of federal approval and back to prison rapidly. And Stella Greene was nothing if not a federal fugitive; the Feds had been chasing her for eight years, never really gaining enough evidence to make anything stick. The idea of destroying both of their freedoms was something Mozzie couldn't face. So he didn't tell Neal the news, figuring that Stella would be on her way again with no one the wiser.

He most certainly was not anticipating that Burke's team would catch wind of Stella re-entering the city and plan to set her up. Or that Neal would take it upon himself to find her before that happened, adding Stella to his short list of things that needed to be resolved outside of the official lines of the FBI. Or, especially, that Alex would also return and decide that messing around with Greene would be the perfect payback for the Copenhagen job. It was a recipe for a massive disaster.

In the end, Mozzie was watching over Stella in Tuesday, monitoring her vitals and cleaning the cuts on her body, trying to fight off feelings of anxiety and fury at all three guilty parties: Neal, Alex, and the Suit. Everything had collided simultaneously, and Stella had gotten caught in the cross-fire (figuratively speaking, thank god). She was looking at a probable concussion and at least a week off for recovery, a week she couldn't risk taking without boxing herself in.

Alex had set her up, sending her to meet with a 'client' who was actually an enforcer for the Russian mob. The Feds, with Neal close behind, had come crashing in at the perfect moment...but Stella had panicked. She'd taken off out of desperation to escape arrest, coming two inches away from breaking Agent Cruz's nose in the process.

Now, Peter was mad at Neal for hesitating, and Neal was pissed at Alex for nearly getting his sister killed. The entire thing was a mess, one that Mozzie was planning on riding out in Tuesday with Stella. Everything that he needed for a couple weeks was here in the safe house. He was hiding from the world, and that was okay.

Stella stirred, groaning. Mozzie sat up quickly, waking from his contemplative stupor, and slid his chair next to Stella. She looked up at him. "Mozz?" she croaked, clearly confused. "What happened to...Damn. Head hurts. Feels like a concussion."

He almost smiled. "Yeah. Somehow, I'm not surprised after what happened."

Stella tensed a little. "Feds?"

Mozzie smoothed her hair, changing the bandage. "You're safe here, Stella. They have no idea."

"But Cap does," she reminded him. "I think you should explain that part of the equation. I thought I recognized Burke in my little fiasco. Why is my brother working with the man who locked him up?" Mozzie sighed heavily, and Stella made a face as he tightened the clean bandage. "Dammit," she breathed. "Kate's the end game, isn't she?"

"Yes," Mozzie said quietly. "But...Stella, it's gotten a little complicated. Well, more than a little."

Stella closed her eyes and leaned back. "All right," she said. "Start from his jailbreak. Why'd he pull something like that?"

########

Three hours later, Stella was pacing the small space, wincing every couple of steps. Mozzie, watching her from a safe distance, wanted to support her but knew better than to offer because the last thing they needed was an argument about whether she was healthy. If there was one thing he'd learned over the years, Stella was better left to heal on her own. It kept everybody sane and in one piece.

"You think Alex really set me up?" she asked, turning again and facing him. "I mean, we've never exactly been friends, but..."

"Copenhagen," Mozzie responded. "From what I can tell, she's mad at you for stopping Neal from visiting her. And for...well, you remember how that job went down."

Stella scoffed, and immediately regretted it as pain shot up her left side. "That guy really did a number on me," she breathed. "So she thinks that if I come back into the picture, Cap's going to be distracted from helping her?"

Mozzie smiled. "Oh, it's more than that. The music box has suddenly returned into the fray. She wants Neal to help her steal it, figuring he owes her from Copenhagen. He's not exactly opposed to the idea."

"Why am I not surprised?" Stella asked. "Alex was never good with competition. Hell, we all are on some level. I guess it just comes with the profession."

A knock at the door, a familiar pattern they both recognized, made them both jump on impulse. Mozzie went to open the door, figuring that any delay would be clearly recognizable for what it was. He heard the window latch slide open behind him as he unlocked the door. By the time Neal stepped into the room, eyes wild with a panic Mozzie hadn't seen in a while, she was gone.

Neither of them said a word for what seemed like an eternity. The silence hung in the air, crisp and thick; both hesitated to break it. Finally, Neal did. "Is she...is she all right?" he asked, the pain written into his voice.

Mozzie couldn't meet his eyes. "She's fine," he said. "I had her up and about, so she'll be okay. I have no idea where she's going to go next, though."

Neal scoffed. "Guess she just has to keep on moving, yeah? The whole situation about being a fugitive and all."

Mozzie looked up suddenly. "Neal, do the Feds know about this little adventure?"

"They know what they could get from the public records," was Neal's sharp reply. "I didn't tell Peter where I was going. I mean, I guess..." He looked down suddenly, realizing the obvious. Swearing in Polish, Mozzie quickly began clearing the shelves. If the Feds tried to come here...

"Mozz, I'm sorry!" Neal said, trying to stop his friend from panicking. "I wasn't thinking clearly..."

Mozzie shot a glare in his general direction, his frustrations boiling over. "No, really?"

"I just wanted to see her!" Neal yelled, anger building in his voice. "God, Mozz, it's been years. I needed to clear the air with her, see where we stood, and I figured after she bolted from the scene she'd come to you..."

Mozzie paused, a thought crossing his mind. "Please tell me you did not go criss-crossing to all of my safe houses," he demanded.

Neal scoffed. "Tuesday's your favorite," he reminded his friend. "I may be impulsive, Mozz, but I'm not exactly unobservant."

"In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity," was Mozzie's response. "Hunter S Thompson."

"Great role model," Neal said sarcastically. Then he paused. "Mozz, anywhere else in town she would go?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Mozzie informed him, reaching up for the two bottles of wine he kept. "Who else does she know? I mean, odds are high she's hopped on a Greyhound by now. Are the Feds going to be watching the stations?"

Neal opened his mouth, but froze when his Blackberry began to ring. He looked at the screen and grimaced. "I'll take this outside," he said. "You better finish your clear-out because odds are, they'll be here soon."

Mozzie nodded, watching as his young friend walked out the door to answer the phone. Things were happening so quickly now. He could barely keep track...

#####

He found a note pinned underneath a window in Thursday the next time he checked that safe house.

Mozz,

I'm on my way out of town. Tell Cap I'm all right, and to watch his back. Things aren't right with Kate. I really can't explain it; just trust me. I'll miss you, Mozz. Forty thousand brothers and all my love.

Spock

He smiled at the Hamlet reference (her favorite Shakespearean play), and gently folded the note up. If he got a chance with Neal later, he'd pass the message along. From the sound of things, Stella wasn't planning on being back in New York any time soon.

Of course, things never go according to plan, something he knew all too well. Six weeks later, after their successful job involving the music box, Mozzie was not surprised by Neal's declaration (informal though it was) of his decision to run. He knew it had been stored up in his friend's mind since the day he'd walked out of that jail on the blasted anklet. Of course, the fallout from that fateful decision was something no one expected. After all, planes don't just combust on their own. Piecing together some semblance of the truth from the various rumors flying around the criminal underworld, Mozzie's heart went out to his friend who had, in the space of five minutes, lost almost everything.

He wanted to help, to somehow fix the pain. So he went when Neal called him from the jail, not entirely sure what he could do but willing to try anything. Obviously, being there was somehow perfect, as the look of gratitude beaming from Neal's baby blues made him aware. They talked things over, discussing possibilities for his future. In the end, Mozzie agreed that the anklet was the best option. It was a prison like any other, but there were some freedoms attached to it. Anything was better than rotting away isolated from the world, which was the fate that Neal was destined to on the inside.

That first night, Mozzie went over to celebrate Neal's newly reclaimed freedom at June's house. He was not expecting Stella to be there, or to find Neal hugging the breath out of his sister like she'd been the one to almost die, not him. He wanted to cough awkwardly, stall the situation somehow and avoid the problems, but they broke off before he got the chance. Stella sauntered over to him, pulling him into a hug. "Hello, Mozz," she said, smiling, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "It's been a while."

They laughed and drank wine, swapping smiles and stories. Stella told them about a ridiculous heist in Monaco where she'd conned a governmental official into thinking she was a dignitary, and Mozzie found himself explaining their job at the Embassy to finally retrieve the elusive music box. Neal just soaked it up, barely saying anything all night. It was a little strange, but Mozzie figured he needed the break from chaos. Even in the aftermath of the worst event that Mozzie could think of to happen to his friend, things felt manageable. As though there was a calm at the end of the chaotic, systematic storm, one they could see and relax in. If the problems between the twins had existed, clearly one or both of them had called a truce. He was glad.

After Neal dozed off, Stella and Mozzie let themselves out. They walked around downtown Manhattan, holding hands. Mozzie let himself relax, relishing this moment. He had a feeling times like this would be few and far between in the coming months. Stella rested her head against his shoulder, and Mozzie felt a smile slowly cross his face.

"I love you," he told her.

"I know," Stella told him, smiling. "You know, a wise man once said that a person starts to live when he can live outside himself."

Mozzie laughed, recognizing the Einstein reference. They kissed under a streetlight, letting their worries and concerns melt into the pavement beneath them. After years of struggling, they were going to be all right. After all, Mozzie reflected, Sophocles believed that one word frees us of all the weight and pain in life: love.

I could make you happy/Make your dreams come true

There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the Earth for you

To make you feel my love...

To make you feel my love

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read this! I'm considering doing some more stories within this AU of Stella Greene. I want to take this chance to thank my amazing beta, Wolfpack pride.


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